Of Candy Bars and Golden Retrievers
by lookluster
Summary: A certain pagan god blows into Palo Alto on 'business' and decides to stay for the sights, mainly that of Sam Winchester. Watch the strange mating dance of an emotionally unstable pagan-in-hiding and an insanely curious 'former' hunter. This is a slight drabble-fic, but it follows a plot, I promise. I also accept Sabriel or just romance prompts if you want to offer them.
1. The Date: Part 1

The entity known right now as Steve, didn't quite know why he'd chosen this college, specifically. He was plenty sure there were other places in the world worthier of his attention, though admittedly, colleges were his favorite hunting grounds, for both victims and midnight college trysts. And colleges had more of his preferred victims, both in the teachers and staff and in the students.

Though typically, he didn't spend this much time doing nothing but people watching.

Oh, sure. He'd seen a plethora of prime victims pass by his little bench in the quad, and a few of them even greeted him with aplomb. It was a rather strange occurrence, as he didn't normally interact directly with his victims before… well, just before.

This campus was different, though he couldn't quite pin down what made it just slightly off. Something in the air, like a tension, almost.

Steve was sure there were demons here, this school was certainly large enough to warrant a few, and college seniors were gullible and stressed enough to make demon deals. However, the energy didn't seem demon.

He shrugged to himself and made a note to investigate later, and went back to people watching.

Well, he was really only watching one individual in particular. Had been for a few days, actually. A rather strapping young man. Tall, strong, brunet, with a beautiful grin, he was standing next to a rather short guy (that Steve instantly didn't like) in a pair of sweats and nothing else.

Really, he wasn't the only one watching the fresh beads of sweat trickle down the man's chest, but he was the most aware of his surroundings. As he thought this, a young red head walked straight into a tree. Steve snorted, but continued watching the man.

He jokingly shook a fist at his friend (who was still in his PJs and yawning) and jogged off in a strange direction for a runner. There were plenty of other joggers in the quad, but the brunet was jogging straight down the middle, aiming for the set of stairs, bars, and other such obstacles.

It was odd to see such a large human being navigate such tight turns, jumps, and swings with such practiced ease. Steve had, of course, heard of the phenomena known as parkour and free-running, but he'd never seen someone perform its feats before, and certainly not with agility or even a semblance of grace.

So deep he was, in thinking about how that "agility and grace" could be used for more fun matters, he didn't notice the large form towering over him until all the light that had previously been shining in his eyes was darkened.

Scowling lightly up at the darkened figure for blocking his sun, he was only able to discern the figure sheer height. Had to be at least 6'3". To Steve's mere 5'8", that was gigantic.

"Hey, gigantor. What's with blocking my sun?" He remarked with a frown. He heard a murmured "gigantor?" but the figure moved out of the way and sat down on the bench next to the newly title giant.

To Steve's utter shock and mild horror, 'gigantor' was none other than the local shirtless parkour hotty. And he was smirking at him. Oh no.

"So I've seen you here every single day this week." The large young man began. "And I was surprised, because, hey classes are important."

"They would be if I were a student." Steve replied with a smirk. His new bench companion nodded sagely, as if it were perfectly logical for a random person to stalk him in the quad (which it probably was) and smirked widely.

"And then, my friend Brady decides it's the perfect time to set me up with a random girl that I don't know." Her the shaggy haired brunet rolled his eyes. "So, in order to both freak out my friend and avoid pretty women in general, I have decided that you are going to take me out for dinner." He smiled and nodded resolutely at the end, as if this were the best plan in the history of the universe.

Steve sat there in shock for several moments, simply staring up at gigantor's smiling puppy-dog face. After a silent minute, Steve pulled two suckers from his pocket, shoved one in his mouth and stuck the other behind the kid's ear.

Gigantor's nose scrunched up in a cute way as his confusion danced across his face. Steve leaned forward so that his mouth was directly next to the kid's earlobe and whispered, "As if, I am the woman in this relationship, mister. You'll be taking me to dinner, babe."

Steve leaned back into his previous position, making sure to brush his nose along gigantor's jaw on the way there.

The giant puppy in question had an utterly baffled look on his face, and Steve smirked, before turning to the quad crowd.

The few people that had been watching the exchange, including gigantor's friend Brady, were looking at the pair with flabbergasted expressions, and in some cases, devastation.

Smirk still firmly in place and sucker still between his lips, Steve turned back to the other bench occupant. He was completely unprepared for gigantor's thoughtful expression as he twirled his own sucker in his mouth.

"Pick you up at 7:00 tonight?" He said finally, leaning forward slightly.

"Wouldn't miss it, gigantor." Steve replied with a wink. Pulling a business card out of his pocket, he thrust it into the hands of the other man, his "address" already scrawled onto the back.

"Wear something fancy!" Gigantor called as Steve got up and began walking away, a smile in his voice.

"I'll knock your **pants** off." Steve winked at him and walked through the archway for the quad.


	2. The Date: Part 2

He had decided tonight, that he'd be going by Richard. He had no real reason for his choice, but it seemed to fit his current attitude.

Dressed in a purple dress shirt, striped sweater, and black slacks, the newly named Richard felt like he matched the requested style. He had flat-out refused to wear a tie of any kind and the stylist he had consulted had protested with a stubborn frown, but had eventually relented.

So now, nicely dressed and hungry for dinner (not really, entities like himself didn't require food), he simply had to wait for his date to arrive, hopefully in a car or the walk would probably be awkward.

As he sat on his conjured couch, his little jack Russell jumped onto his lap and cuddled up to him.

Why was he thinking about the awkwardness that would occur? He was a pagan god! Why on Earth was he acting like a teenage girl with a crush?

God help him, he had a crush.

The pup in his lap let out a sound like a snicker, and Richard glared down at him slightly.

"Oh, shut it, Taz." The dog yawned and settled back into his lap, paying his owner no mind.

Richard glanced at the clock. 6:15 PM. He sighed.

Glancing about his rather bare "apartment," he decided to redecorate while he was waiting.

Hopefully to impress Gigantor.

The knock at his door caused Taz the jack russell to begin barking incessantly and jumping for the handle. Richard rolled his eyes but was just as eager to open the door.

When the door swung open, Taz immediately rushed out to greet the tall figure on the other side, and Richard was pleased to note the way gigantor's eyes lit up at the sight of the small animal.

Dog-lovers were always the better.

"Hey there, gigantor." He said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, watching as the very large man sat down on the floor with folded legs to play with the dog. The man in question smiled sheepishly up at him but didn't stand up or stop playing with Taz, despite the fact he was wearing a nicely pressed blue dress shirt, black slacks, and a tie.

"I like dogs." He explained simply after a few minutes, finally standing up and brushing off the dog hair.

"I can see that." Richard laughed. "Gotta say, gigantor. You're getting more and more attractive by the minute."

His companion blushed slightly, but smiled anyway.

"Nice place." He commented, looking around the repurposed studio apartment.

"Of course." He smiled, gleefully thinking about the 45 minutes of interior design he'd invested in. He grabbed a key from the hook on the wall by the door. "Ready to go?"

Gigantor nodded and Richard ushered Taz inside, "locking" the door behind him.

The ride to the restaurant, Baume, was a short one, and Richard was happy to note that his date had a car, used though it was. They didn't do much talking on the ride, mainly because Richard was busy playing with the buttons and rifling through the glove box, while gigantor glanced over in amusement.

The two got a raised eyebrow from the host when they arrived, but were directed to a table easily.

Then they had to overcome the struggle of conversation. It was easier than either of them expected.

"So what do you do?" Gigantor asked, an interested glint in his eye. "Your apartment doesn't say professor, student, or lawyer."

"Ah, I work at the hospital." Gabriel fibbed. He did occasionally work at the hospital as a candy striper, mainly because candy and partly because he'd originally thought it said candy stripper.

"Oh? Did you go to Stanford, then?"

"Nope, went to Johns-Hopkins." Also partly true. "What about you, Mr. College Student? What are you majoring in?"

"Pre-law." Was his reply. "I want to be a lawyer."

"What kind, though? Defense or prosecution? …or are you more of a desk jockey kind of lawyer?"

"Prosecution." And by the determined set of his jaw, Richard could tell that this was a deeply thought of issue.

"Putting the bad guys away. Admirable."

"Thanks." He turned a little shy at his compliment. He was clearly in thought for a while, and Richard waited curiously for whatever question his dinner companion could come up with.

"So your business card?"

"What about it?" Richard asked smugly, knowing exactly where this was going.

"It didn't have your name on it." He replied. "I've been mentally calling you stalker guy all this time." He admitted.

This garnered a genuine laugh from Richard.

"You know what I call you, already. I didn't catch your name either." And wasn't it a curious thing for him to not know someone's name. But the strange atmosphere surrounding Palo Alto was affecting his abilities, so this was an exciting new thing. It kind of made him like this guy even more, the slight mystery.

"Sam. And you?"

"Today I'm going by Richard."

"Oh?" He leaned forward in confusion and interest. "You're 'going by' Richard? What does that mean?"

"I like trying different names out with people I haven't made up my minds about yet."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If I decide that I like you and trust you enough, I tell you my real name." He replied, knowing for a fact that despite his crush on this human, it would never evolve into anything more than a one night stand and a crush.

"So what was your 'name' when we met?" Sam inquired, accepting his explanation with surprising ease.

"Steve." He replied proudly.

"Steve?" A raised eyebrow.

"It is a perfectly respectable name."

"It really doesn't fit you, though."

"Oh, what name fits me then?"

"Well… Richard fits you better. But I think you need a more… fun name, for lack of a better description."

"Like what?"

"Mm… Max maybe."

"Nope."

"Alex?" Both men were clearly enjoying this little game, but the waiter interrupted them with their meals. Sadly, this meant their conversation went back to normal date conversation like favorite color and where in the world would you want to go.

After a while though, a question started bugging Richard.

"I didn't take you for the gay type." He admitted after a while. Sam looked surprised by the change of topic, but not altogether uncomfortable, which was good.

"I like people." He replied simply. When Richard raised an eyebrow, he elaborated. "I don't have a 'preferred gender.' My family has – had – an easy view on love. 'If you got someone, good.' I live by that kind of creed. When I was in high school I went out with mostly girls because no guys there were interesting or interested." He shrugged.

"But why'd you want to avoid the girls your friend wanted to set you up with?"

He turned a bit uncomfortable.

"All the girls he tries to set me up with, well they look like a relative of mine."

"Ah, and you don't want to have to deal with the possible incest insinuations?" Richard inferred with a smirk. Sam seemed relieved that someone understood, though.

"Not high on my list of things to do, no."

Dammit. This kid was making him like him even more.

"Okay, Sam." Richard said, when the two had finally reached his 'apartment.' "I've got a proposition for you."

Ignoring the way that was phrased with barely a blush, Sam nodded for Richard to continue.

"I challenge you to figure out my name." Sam's eyes lit up at the mention of a challenge.

"What do I get if I win?"

"Hmmm… Whatever you want. For one day, you get anything you want. I'll do anything."

Sam smirked.

"Alright, then I accept your challenge."

Richard, seeing an opportunity, smirked and grabbed Sam's tie, tugging the much taller figure down and planting a large kiss on his lips.

Then, releasing the stunned and totally red man, he shut the door behind him. His own blush dancing across his face.

God, he was such a teenage girl.


	3. Little Candy Shop of Horror

Sam walked into the little mom-and-pop-looking store called 'Sweat Shop' without really knowing what was inside. He had suspected that it was a dry cleaner's or something, but he was desperate and it was getting increasingly more difficult to avoid Brady and his new dates for Sam. Brady thought he finally knew the reason his friend didn't want to go on a date with any of the girls he showed up with, and decided to change to presenting Sam with, admittedly, very attractive men.

So, ducking into the shop, Sam was befuddled by the bright colors, spinning contraptions, and bubbles floating through the air. It was some sort of candy shop. One that also sold toys, magic tricks, and was unable to spell 'sweet.'

Unable to keep his eyes focused on one thing, Sam walked forward, into an isle full of different flavor, colors, shapes, and chewiness of gum. There were no name brands, but strange little names like, Deer Poop, Tooth Glue, and Corn on each of the packages.

Incapable of stopping himself, he grabbed one of the square containers off the shelf and looked closely at it, trying to read the small print.

Instant Afro Gum

Warning: This product has not been tested on animals. Use outside.

He snorted quietly and continued through the isle

"… do you not have...?" Sam's ears perked when he heard a familiar voice drift from the direction of the cash register. He let his ears guide him to the chocolate bar isle, to the sight of a frustrated cashier in a stupid-looking orange vest staring down at the short figure smugly looking upwards.

"Sam!" He shouted, happily shoving past the cashier and standing in front of the college student. "You wouldn't believe what candy they don't have here!"

"Oh?" Sam asked, an eyebrow raised in incredulity. "What candy would that be, Seymour?"

"Razzles! They don't have Razzles!" He replied as if that were the worst offense, but his eye glittered with interest at the odd name choice.

"It's a travesty." Sam agreed easily, nodding along. The cashier got more frustrated and finally gave up, walking back to the counter and sulking into a skateboard magazine. The two watched him go.

Sam felt a little bad, but turned back to the newly named Seymour and asked, "Why were you looking for Razzles in the chocolate isle?"

"Why not?" Seymour replied with sparkled with mischief. He relented at Sam's stubborn look. "He was being a dick to a kid who was in here earlier." He paused. "Why Seymour?"

"Was I right, then?"

"Not even close, but I like it."

"I watched Little Shop of Horrors in my English class the other day."

"Ah."

"Why were you in this candy shop in the first place?"

"Could ask you the same thing Samson."

"Avoiding Brady. Your turn."

"Avoiding responsibility. And I needed sugar." Seymour snatched a box of chocolate bars off the shelf with the name 'Nut Milk.' Sam raised an eyebrow.

"That much sugar has got to be unhealthy."

"So what, Sammu? I am a functioning adult; I'm allowed to act like a two-year old any time I want." The shorter man grabbed a handful of whoppers and tossed them at the other with a smile.

"Functioning adult, huh?" Sam asked with an incredulous smile, tossing his own handful of gummy sharks.

"Shush you." Seymour took a package off the shelf, and Sam leaned forward to read the name and let out a bark of laughter.

"I see you found your Razzles."

Seymour tossed a twenty onto the counter and led Sam back out onto the street, passing over a few of the colorful candies. Sam tossed them into his mouth expertly, and smiled at the taste.

He was startled when he was pelted with a Razzle projectile in the cheek. He turned to Seymour, who was smirking down at his box of chocolate, no Razzles in sight.

Sam's eyes squinted, roving over his companion's form, looking for any hint of the blue package. Unfortunately, he couldn't find any visual evidence to the shorter man's crime.

He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and found, to his utter shock, the package of gum-like candies.

Digging them out and holding them up, Sam asked, "How the hell did you do that?" Seymour's smirk deepened.

"Your jeans aren't as tight as you think they are." The shorter man noted. "You wouldn't believe what I was able to fit in your other pockets."

Scrunching up his eyebrows, Sam dug through his unchecked pockets, pausing in the middle of the street, as he pulled out a mini fishing kit, a compass, a green whistle and a flashlight, all from his back pocket.

He was sure he looked hilarious standing in the middle of the street, holding this weird assortment of items. But all he could feel was befuddlement.

"How the hell…?"

"Your skin also isn't a sensitive as I thought it would be." Seymour called back, still walking forward with his chocolates.

Sam sped up so that their paces matched.

"Ass."

"Samsquatch."

Author's note:

Hey y'all, I have a few chapter ideas already planned out, but I'll be accepting prompts.

The rules of the prompt are:

Nothing explicit (yet)

Be as descriptive as possibility

Include a name for Sam's Beau

Opt: Include a song for me to listen to while writing

Thanks!

LL


	4. Barista Wars

Author' Note:

I recently got a message from someone who wishes to remain anonymous. It basically asked if I could explain the time this story will be set until.

In the Supernatural universe, Sam was just about to go to interviews for law school, meaning he was roughly at the end of Junior year or beginning of Senior year. In the beginning of my story, Sam is a freshman in mid-quarter. Basically, this story will take place between a year to two years. And, if you guys want, I'll write a sequel, taking place from Season 1 and on.

Also, like I said in the last chapter, I will be taking prompts/ ideas/ names if anyone wants to give them. Look to the Author's note in last chapter if you'd like specifics.

Disclaimer: Only thing I own is the plot. Little though there is.

Enjoy!

Sam desperately needed the job at the school, the RA job that is, but he'd have to wait a whole 5 months before the current RA for his building graduated.

And Sam, though he was living mostly off of scholarships and grants, found he was still in need of money. It would be amazing if the current RA, who wasn't even that great at the job, decided to quit early. The free room and board, the pay check, and the slight authority would be awesome.

However, the RA in question was holding on like a limpet to the position, not actually doing anything but suck up the benefits.

So, here he was, three weeks into his new job. A local coffee shop had needed some long-term employees, and when they heard he was there for pre-law and was eager to learn, they'd hired him pretty much immediately. One of his new coworkers, Han, had commented that he was lucky, as the position he was filling had emptied only a day earlier, and that guy had gone over to the 'dark side.'

Sam was, of course, curious.

Their shop, Fleetwood Macchiato, wasn't the only business in the area, Han explained. There was also Lava Java, The Friendly Bean, and Impresso Expresso.

Lava Java was a 'trendy' shop run by a couple of early 20-somethings, with a strange mix of thrifted furniture, underground artwork, and 'organic, gluten-free, and vegan' coffee options. Han explained to him that most of these people were stoners and hipsters.

The Friendly Bean on the other hand, was a quiet and small business, mainly for the elderly to sit, read newspapers, and complain about today's youths. It had wicker furniture, coffee mugs instead of disposable, and it catered mainly toward the nearby old folk's home.

The Impresso Expresso, though, they were virtually the same as Fleetwood Macchiato. Same layout, coffee selections, same prices, same everything, except for the color scheme. Impresso was black and blue, while Fleetwood was white and gold.

"The two owners used to be married," Han told the raptly listening Sam. "Our boss, May, found out that her husband was cheating on her and they got divorced. He decided to spite her by building the coffee place across the street. They're both successful, but, per rumor, Impresso pays its employees more. Which is why Marcus left."

"So this is like… coffee shop cold wars?" Sam was intrigued by the whole concept of this, and the added relationship drama involved.

"It's not really a cold war anymore." Han admitted, absently cleaning a cream jug. "We just don't know how to retaliate."

"Well, what did they do?" Sam asked, immediately drawing on his prank wars with his brother.

Han looked around quickly before whispering, "They put a sign outside saying there was a new 'Pink Tax' on any orders by women."

"So you lost a lot of customers." Sam inferred. Han nodded with bitter grin.

"But, for some reason, our male customers went up in number."

"Well that's disappointing." Sam sighed. His coworker agreed with a nod.

"But we still don't know how to retaliate." Han shrugged with a disappointed sigh, and went back to cleaning. Sam joined him after a moment.

"To retaliate what?" A familiar voice said from across the service bar.

Sam spun around, an excited grin on his face.

"You know this guy, Sam?" Han asked curiously.

"This is Luke." He introduced easily. "Luke this is Han."

"Luke and Han, ha, I see what you did there." The shorter man was grinning brightly up at Sam, with a ticket in his hand. Sam reached for it and read out the order.

"Caramel Macchiato, extra caramel and room for sugar."

As Han got to making the order, both baristas began explaining the situation.

"Ah, you got a stupid and spiteful guy, probably with no loyal staff, and a woman scorned, with mostly loyal staff, but in need of help." Luke thought it over for a second. "You got any ideas for retribution?"

"I'm thinking we replace all of the sugar shakers with salt." Sam posited. "They have all the same features as here, right? Just different colors."

Han nodded slowly, a slow grin forming, while Luke stood to the side a proud beam on his face.

"Nicely said, Samsquatch." He praised. "What about those containers behind you?" He pointed to the freshly washed cream jugs behind them. "What would happen if they were filled with, say mayonnaise?"

An evil grin spread across all three faces.

"Let's tell the boss." Han laughed.

Sneaking into the other coffee shop at eight in the morning was made extremely easy, as he didn't know Sam or Luke, yet, and while May was wary of involving a 'civilian,' she couldn't deny the advantage that the anonymity bought her.

Sam ordered a coffee for both him and Luke and then they made their way over to the creamer and sugar station, duffle bags in hand.

When Sam knew that no one was looking, he carefully maneuvered so that his body was between the stand and the security camera, making it look like he was waiting for Luke to fix his coffee, while Luke gingerly replaced all the containers with their filled counterparts.

They left slowly, easing their ways through the crowd and out the door.

When they walked back into Fleetwood Macchiato a few minutes later, they were met with expectant eyes, from both the baristas and patrons.

"We…" Luke began, dramatically tossing his duffle bag on the table, "were successful!"

The place dissolved into cheers and congratulations from all present. May stood in the middle of it with her coffee cup, mist in her eyes and a proud smile on her face.

Sam let Luke have his dramatic moment, standing back with a smile on his face. It was like there was nothing that Luke couldn't do.

Two days later, the verdict was in. Impresso Expresso baristas were out job hunting, while their boss went looking for a non-existent cache of hirable employees, and their customer base had gone way down. The only people who stayed were the ones who drank black coffee or plain tea, which wasn't many people.

Lava Java and The Friendly Bean were peacefully arguing about who would buy out Impresso Expresso and take over the space, as Impresso Expresso looked on, pouting.

May was ecstatic, and gave all her employees a raise as the customers that had been lost, came back plus interest, and it nearly tripled the profit.

Sam was just happy to still have a job, and be able to enjoy it.

However, he had realized something during this whole thing. He looked forward to his nameless companion. He also came to the realization that they weren't really dating, but then they also kind of were.

It was a strange limbo they were in, and Sam was sure, he'd be seeing him more often in the future. He was equally sure that when he did eventually guess his name right, something would happen. Good or bad, he hadn't decided yet, but it would be monumental.

He just wasn't sure if he could survive it.

Author's Note:

Like I said in the previous chapter, I will be taking prompts.

I have 2 chapters planned after this, but after that it's up in the air.


	5. Calvin and Hobbes and Sam

Author's Note:

Hey y'all! I still need some ideas/prompts, for future scenarios. As it stands, I have one chapter left planned out. And if I don't get any takers then I'm gonna take a sabbatical to revise, and maybe rewrite this story.

Now, I know, not as long a chapter as usual, but I thought it was cute.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING!

Sam had become expectant. Whenever something interesting in his life would happen, his mystery suitor would be just around the corner, or would that be the other way around?

Either way it happened, Sam's life had gotten infinitely more interesting once he got involved with this guy. More interesting in the non-hunter way, at least.

He had actually been surprised that nothing supernatural was going on, at least not in the public eye, and the most supernatural thing within miles was a girl in his building who was a practicing wiccan. She burned sage and said some pretty words, but ultimately, it had no effect. Not really making the four o'clock news.

Anyway, when Brady finally cornered him in his dorm and declared that they were going to the zoo, Sam knew he would run into Mr. Mysterious.

They wondered around the zoo for a few hours, Brady girl-watching while Sam watched the capuchins. It was altogether uneventful, and almost boring.

They were wandering past the tiger exhibit, when Sam saw a man treating the tiger to loud meows, and causing the cat much confusion. He shook his head in amusement and strode over to the exhibit, leaning up against the hand rails.

"Why are you taunting the cat?" he asked curiously.

"Because." His companion replied easily, a candy cane sticking out from between his lips.

"That's great reasoning."

"I know."

A comfortable silence settled over them, and they just sat and watched the tiger prowling around his exhibit for a while.

After a while though, Brady realized that he had lost his friend while he was watching a particularly attractive group of girls, and wandered over to interrupt their silence.

"Sam, you left me man! I needed a wing man to show off my moves on a real hotty." The shorter college student bemoaned, slumping backwards on the railings. He looked curiously over to the guy on the other side of Sam with the candy cane. "Who's your friend?"

"Brady, Calvin. Calvin, Brady." Sam replied shortly, keeping his eyes on the tiger.

"Hi. Like my distracted friend said, I'm Brady." He reached an arm around Sam's large frame to shake Calvin's hand.

"Calvin, or you could call me Cal." The other smiled. "I take it you go to school with Sam?"

"Yup, getting my business degree at jolly old Stanford. Dad wants me to take over the family company when I graduate." He explained. "What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm a neurologist at the teaching hospital." Cal replied, unwrapping another candy cane from his pocket.

"Cool." Brady stood there uncomfortably for a couple of seconds, floundering for something to say. He looked in the direction of the girls he'd been watching earlier and made a quick escape.

The two at the tiger exhibit regained their silence for a good long while after that. Sam just existing comfortably next to the newly named Cal.

"I don't really like Brady." Cal broke the silence first.

"I got that impression." Sam replied.

"I don't know why, but he rubs me wrong." Sam quirked an eyebrow and turned his head.

"Are you… jealous?"

"No!" Cal replied hurriedly. Sam let out a soft laugh.

"There's no reason for you to be jealous. I don't go for straight man-whores."

"By you go for gay and bi man-whores?"

Sam couldn't help the bubble of laughter that shot up out of his throat, startling the tiger in the exhibit below.

"You are _soooo_ jealous."

"Nuh uh." Cal pouted into his too-long sleeves.

"What are you like five?"

"Maybe in spirit."

Sam snorted and the two lapsed back into silence.

"This is the calmest conversation we've ever had, I think." Sam said quietly, after a long time.

"Hmm." Cal agreed.

"I take it, your name's not Calvin, then?"

"Nope."

"Damn." Sam sighed before straightening. "Well, I have a test tomorrow afternoon to study for. See you later?"

"Hmm." The calculating look on Cal's face made him pause.

"What is it?"

Cal didn't respond with words and didn't leave him much time to react, and grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt, pulling him down into a surprising and long kiss.

Calvin let a dazed Sam up, and when the taller man didn't move, gave him a light shove in the direction of his other friend.

Brady had a look of realization on his face, that said he remembered where he'd seen Calvin before. Now he probably had theories about why Sam wasn't taking up any of the blind dates Brady had offered.

Sam honestly couldn't care less.

Cuteness!

Anywho, comment, favorite, follow, etc.

Love ya!

LL


	6. Archie's Weird Mysteries

AN:

Hey! I'm back-ish. I might not be updating at the same rate I was before, but I will still be here.

Special Thanks to bekini: Thank you for the chapter idea! You gave me the push to get out of my rut and I figured out how I want to end this story! Virtual cookies for you!

Anyway, Disclaimer and all that!

Enjoy!

Sam was surprised. At least once every week for the past month and a half, something slightly insane or strange would happen. That wasn't the case with this week, however, unless you counted the girl Brady was going out with.

Sam had been worried about his mysterious companion for a while, until he explained that he was covering some double shifts while one of his coworkers was out on maternity leave, and initially, Sam was fine with this because he had midterms to study for. However, this week was only making him realize how much he missed his companion and his antics.

He had decided today that his companion would be called Archie, even if he'd already confirmed that it was wrong.

Anyway, the library was crammed with people doing last minute studying and papers. Everyone was talking in their loudest quiet voice, and honestly irritating Sam. His first college midterm was stressful enough, without having to deal with hordes of people doing the same thing, but louder.

He was highlighting his way through his Calculus textbook, when a conversation caught his attention.

"Did you hear about Nero?"

"No, what happened?"

"They say he was abducted."

"As in kidnapped?"

"No. As in aliens."

"What? You're nuts."

"No, seriously! They found him lying in the middle of a corn field in Iowa, in the middle of a crop circle."

"He was found in Iowa? So, what? He could have been driven there."

"Steven, you know that guy in the med program, he did the autopsy, and they found "no foreign particles."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_ that there wasn't anything on him that wasn't cornfield or his room. He was still in his PJs for god's sake!"

"So, someone transported him in a plastic sheet."

"What about the fact that there's no cause of death?"

"…What?"

"Steven said he was in perfect health, other than, you know, being dead."

"Wow."

"I know, I mean he was an asshole, but…"

"Sara! You should speak ill of the dead."

"He won't care. Plus, you _know_ he was an asshole. He didn't deserve to die, though."

"Didn't he have a girlfriend?"

"No one knows where she is. She left school for 'medical reasons.'"

Sam shook himself, and tried to block out that conversation, which was weird, but not completely his type of suspicious. He was mostly successful, but gathered unwillingly that most of the library was chatting about the weird death in between chapters and note memorization.

The next day, the conversation had, thankfully, quieted down, and Sam could work in peace, with Archie still working double shifts. The library was still packed, but not as loud, and groups of people had left as the day wore on to go celebrate the upcoming football game.

So, Sam, and a few other desperately studying students, were left in the library with relative silence, apart from the occasional flipping page and scribbled note.

As the hours wore on, though, he found his mind drifting back to the conversation from earlier. Instead of syntax structure, he was thinking of the all the possible monsters who could kill without leaving evidence. It was a rather short list, to be honest, but one he knew he didn't have all the names for.

He sighed heavily into his hands and leaned back in his chair.

Shaking his head, he pulled out his beat up little Nokia and dialed a number he knew by heart.

"This is Dean Winchester. If it's an emergency, leave a message. If you're calling about 11-2-83, please page me with your coordinates."

For a moment, he just let the familiar voice wash over him and calm him down, not acknowledging the little digital woman's voice telling him to leave a message.

"… Hey sorry I missed you. This is Dean, who's call-"

Eyes wide, Sam quickly shut off the phone. He didn't know if his brother knew how to track calls yet (that was always Sam's job), but he didn't want to take that chance. His brother might take that as a sign that he wanted to start hunting again.

Clutching the phone to his head, Sam wanted to bash his head into a wall.

Suddenly, a presence was lurking over him, in a non-malevolent manner.

"You know, sometimes it's good to call people you care about when you're stressed." Sam looked up to see a girl from his psych class, Jenna or something, standing above him with a gentle smile on his face.

"Jenna…?" She laughed and shook her head.

"Jess. Jessica Moore." She smiled and shook his hand smartly. "I'm the girl your friend was trying to set you up with in the quad at the beginning of this semester."

Sam's eyes turned into dinner plates as he tried to retreat in on himself. Jess just laughed and smiled, saying, "Don't worry, I'm not upset." Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Sorry, I was…"

"Don't get me wrong, I was a little disappointed when you walked away from me, but that kiss…" She fanned herself cartoonishly, "…let's just say, not everyone was disappointed to be witness to that."

Sam gave Jess a confused look, her blush causing him to blink and reevaluate all the female interactions he'd had in the past several months. All the blushing made so much more sense now.

"But you should call him." Jess said, interrupting Sam's train of thought. "Let him calm you down. Take it from a psych major."

"Thanks Jess." Sam said sincerely.

"No problem. And if you and your boyfriend feel like making out for me…" She let a pervy little grin cross her face causing Sam to let out a little laugh at the audacity of her request.

As she walked away, Sam considered what his life would be like if he hadn't been trying to avoid Brady and his matchmaking. It was a strange thought and not altogether unpleasant, but then, he'd never have met Archie.

Sam sighed again, but reached once more for his phone. He dialed the second number he knew by heart.

"Hello, Doctor Coelum's phone?" A female voice answered politely.

"Hi Macy," he responded with a smile, "is the doctor there?"

"Oh, hi Sam!" Macy's voice was excited. "Doctor Coelum is just finishing his rounds, I'll have him call you when done, how's that sound?"

"That sounds great, thanks Macy."

"Oh, it's no problem, Sam. Have a nice day!"

"You too, Macy."

He hung up, sat quietly for a few minutes, and attempted to get back to studying, however, the hunter in him kept rearing its ugly head, yelling at him to call Dean again, or solve this case himself.

Thankfully, before the little voice could convince him to do either thing, his phone started blaring out 'Original Prankster.' Snatching it up, he answered.

"Sammufflelump!" Archie's excited voice came through the grainy mic with only a little interference.

"…What did you call me?"

"Disregard it. It doesn't work." Archie said absently. "Not that I'm not thrilled to talk to my favorite giant, but I thought you were supposed to be studying? Don't you have a midterm or something?"

"Yeah, it's just…" Sam sighed, trying to come up with a way to explain his turmoil without completely freaking him out and alienating him. "A guy on campus was found dead. A guy named Nero. And I just…"

"You mean Nero Sandusky?" Archie asked, a note of unexpected seriousness in his voice.

"I think that's his last name." Sam replied, sitting up straight, waiting for the verdict.

"Sam," Archie sighed deeply, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't feel bad about the Sandusky kid, and you shouldn't either."

"What do you mean?" Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean everyone thinks he's an asshole, but-"

"Asshole is an understatement."

"Why?"

There was another deep sigh, and Sam could finally hear just how exhausted his partner was.

"His girlfriend, Clara Silverman, she's, uh..."

"Dead?" Sam asked soberly.

"Worse." Archie's voice was pained. "What that bastard did to her… Well, she's as good as dead now."

"She didn't kill him, then?"

"I wish she did. Her father came storming through here, took one look at his little girl and stormed back out."

"Oh." Sam's voice was soft.

"There's no sign of her old man, so far. But I don't think he'll show. His baby girl is nearly dead, and she's his only family."

"Sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's ok." Archie cleared his throat. "I want to give you peace of mind, and the sound of your voice is very calming."

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Sam worried. This won him a little laugh.

"No, I just remembered today, that my job comes with downsides."

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"How about you come around for lunch and you can cheer me up. Maybe I can help you study a bit?"

"That sounds nice. Meet you there?"

"Later Sammy."

AN:

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! As I'm sure every writer on her says, review, review, review!

Thanks!

LL


	7. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Crap Beer

AN: Hey Y'all! Next week is my finals, so don't really expect an update, sorry!

Thanks to all the new followers and those who've favorited the story! Always very appreciated.

Anyway, as always, please review! I no longer need inspiration and have the rest of the story planned out, but feedback on things I should work on or change would be much appreciated. And If you want a specific scenario to show up, I welcome omakes and/or extra prompt to fit into the story.

Disclaimer: Do not own, otherwise Dean and Cas wouldn't be broodily staring at each other all the time, and Sam would be a Destiel shipper (more than he already is, I mean)

Enjoy!

"Come on! It'll be fun! Drunk babes, free booze, free food, and good music! What more could a guy ask for." Sam turned around and faced his roommate, Corban, and raised an eyebrow. "Right, forgot you were of the dudely persuasion. Anyway, you can invite your boy toy to the bonfire and maybe get some in the process."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to packing his suit case.

"Dude, just because you're gonna be a stick in the mud RA, doesn't mean you can't act like one of us plebeians for the next 24 hours!"

Sam sighed, zipped up his case and sat down on his bed facing Corban. He was seriously considering Corban's offer, but the future frat boy was such a dude-bro that it was hard to take anything he said seriously.

Nobody at the bonfire would likely mind, but Sam didn't know how his, as Corban called him, 'boy toy' would react.

After his dude-bro roommate left, though, he texted an invitation over and shoved his case under his bed, where it would stay for the next 24 hours or so.

Sam was surprised when his phone dinged immediately after class with a simple 'Yes!' on screen. He laughed and shook his head, but headed to his room to change for the inevitable beer stains that he would acquire tonight.

Corban said something about hot girls and fled the room, a dopey smile on his face. Sam doubted he would be in for the rest of the night.

When Sam's partner arrived, Sam let out a loud belly laugh at his ridiculous getup.

Dressed head to toe in red and white Stanford gear, he had also painted his face in the two-tone red and white and had on one of those stupid giant foam helmets that made him look like a bobble head.

"Someone's feeling festive, I see." He commented wryly.

"Oh, don't worry," Sam's enthusiastic companion smiled evilly, "it's from a matching set." And with that, he plopped an equally ridiculously large red cowboy hat onto Sam.

"But I'm already festive enough!" Sam complained playfully, gesturing down at his already beer stained jersey.

"Come on, Yosemite Sam. Let's party!" And with that, a laughing Sam was dragged out of his room, barely having time to shut his door behind him.

"God have mercy, this beer sucks!" The undercover trickster exclaimed, glaring down into his cup.

Sam, having already had several cups of the foul and absurdly strong concoction, just smiled sloppily and slurred, "It's your Goblet of Crappy Beer, Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

The newly dubbed Harry blinked at his swaying companion and glanced around at the similarly drunk crowd. He glanced down into his cup of beer, spinning a little bit of magic into eyes.

Immediately, swirls of purple and blue invaded his vision, twirling around his solo cup and everyone else's.

"Pixies." Harry grumbled rolling his eyes. He glanced around the crowd, searching for that one person who was most sober.

A hot young blonde stood in a cluster of burly frat boys and football players, with a mischievous grin on her face as magic spun from her fingers and the invisible wings on her back lit up.

"Hey, Sam? Be right back!" Harry shouted over the din of shitty music and yelling, Sam smiled and plopped onto the ground, a group of sad drunks following suit and sobbing into his cheerful arms. Harry shook his head but strode over to the blonde.

"What's your goal?" He growled into her ear, pretending to be an admirer. She turned frightened eyes on him and tried to pull away. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"An orgy!" She shouted, oblivious to the way the crowd of admirers around her had frozen. "I just wanted an orgy! Don't hurt me, hunter!"

Harry leaned back, releasing her arm.

"How old are you?"

"18 and a half." She muttered quietly as she massaged her arm, looking at the ground submissively.

"So, you're just a dumbass kid? Of course you are…" Harry shook his head and released a sigh. Her head shot up and she glared.

"I am NOT a kid!" She grumbled.

"Honey, you're 18 years old. When I was your age, the world hadn't even been born yet." The girl graced him with a look of surprise.

"But you're a mortal…" She finally glanced around at the group of partiers surrounding her, completely still and silent. "You're not human."

"Good guess." He smirked sarcastically. If anything, she looked more terrified.

"What do you want with me?" She asked shakily.

"What I want, is for you to leave my mortal alone." He stared at her, waiting for her to gather her thoughts.

"Your… mortal…?"

"Yes, the giant brunet puppy dog over there." He pointed with a smile at the completely smashed law student who was attempting to cheer up the depressed drunks surrounding him.

"Oh… I didn't want to hurt anyone." The pixie muttered quietly. "I just want an orgy."

"Then keep it that way." He commanded, standing up. "If even one body drops in even a slightly unexplainable way, I'll hunt you down myself, no hunters need apply." And he ignored that he had ignored that particular rule, himself, but he'd taken care of it pretty well, in his opinion.

And with that said, he stood up and slapped one of the frat bros on the back with a triumphant laugh that he returned, and slipped through the crowd.

Sam was still sitting on the ground cross-legged, surrounded by now sleeping drunks and discarded solo cups, a dopey grin on his face. He looked up blearily as Harry approached him, and attempted to stand to greet him with arms wide open. He ended up falling back on his ass, though, and began giggling uncontrollably.

"God, you are a happy drunk, aren't you?" Harry mused with a smile. He quickly bent down and grabbed Sam's arm, and with a bit of actual effort and a bit of magic, he lurched the giant college student to his feet.

He began almost completely carrying the large figure out of the crowd of writhing college kids. Thankfully, because of his awesomeness (and a smidgeon of magic), Harry was able to maneuver his way through the throngs of people dancing drunkenly around them.

Hopefully they could get the rest of the way to his dorm without getting interrupted by any other drunk frat boys or girls.

With a dramatic sigh of effort, Harry poured Sam into bed. The young man was quietly rambling to himself about colors and hats, and payed very little mind to the man attempting to take his shirt off.

Somewhere between the bonfire and the dorms, they had run into a completely trashed poli-sci major who had decided Sam was a good place to vomit and then wandered off. Sam, having been getting progressively more incoherent and sleepy, had barely noticed, and acknowledged it with barely a smile.

Now, though, he was happily singing a little tune he came up with himself.

"~You wanna take my shirt off! ~" He proclaimed, a sloppy grin on his face. Harry rolled his eyes at the surprising immaturity. He finagled the jersey off the squirming and singing giant and tossed it in the sink, for Sam to wash in the morning. "~You wanna take my shirt off! ~"

Turning to leave, Harry was surprised by the hand that grabbed his wrist and tugging him onto the bed. Sam and Harry both blinked as they adjusted to their new tangled position, but the drunk one of the two looked at the other with puppy dog eyes and asked in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Don't go?"

Harry sighed as Sam passed out immediately afterwards. "Oh you silly human, what am I supposed to say to that?"

With an indulgent smile, Harry wiggled out of his own shirt, tossing it onto the floor. He reached with his one free hand for the blankets on the foot of the bed, and pulled it over both of them.

Trapped under Sam, Harry found he was rather comfortable and warm, so he snuggled deeper into the Sam body cocoon and shut his eyes.

He found he was sleeping so much more, ever since he'd met his human. And he wasn't sure if that was a terrible thing.

AN: Review, please! And here's a cat!

; \\_/ ; ; ;

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'-.._ v _..-' )

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`" `" `" `"


	8. The Hangover

AN:

Hey y'all, finals are done and I'm back from holidays. Thank you for the well wishes! I did pretty well on my finals, I'm proud to say.

Anyway, this is your last chance to enter a prompt of your own, because afterwards, I have the timeline pretty much set and another story bugging me.

Btw, if you're a fan of Dragon Age, I'll probably be posting it within the next month or so.

On with the story, then!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did the gay love would be so much more explicit. Mwahahahahahahaha!

The Hangover

The headache was oppressive. It loomed over his brain and yelled around the inside of his scull with ringing force. He felt like he had cotton in his mouth and speakers in his ears.

It was clear from the sounds coming from the hall that nearly everyone was as hungover as him and moaning loudly about it as they trudged toward the chow hall to get coffee and food. Sam could hear the room next door was puking into the toilet.

All Sam wanted to do was curl back up and go to sleep, but he ran into something smooth and tough in his efforts.

He cracked an eye open slightly and peered at the object that was blocking him. A tuft of brown hair fell out over the covers in messy tangles. Sam blinked slowly at the sight and moved his hand toward the hair. He was impeded once again, however, by the same smooth surface, only this time he could feel the strange pulsing and beating below the surface.

He ran a hand up the strangely warm surface, attempting to figure out what it was.

Needless to say, his hungover mind was surprised and mildly horrified when the tuft of hair shivered, accompanied by a shifting of covers and a quiet sigh.

Almost unable to resist, Sam lifted the covers slightly to reveal pair of naked shoulders. It didn't occur to him until that moment to look down and see his own state of dress. Lo and behold, he was quite shirtless.

He was on the verges of panicking when he noticed that the shoulders were not as bare as he'd thought.

Spanning one shoulder to the other stood a bright, crisp set of golden wings.

Well, that wasn't completely true. The tattoo was really a set of three wings on each side, that disappeared beneath the covers. Sam had an urge to follow the crisp lines, but held himself, even in his hungover state.

What he couldn't resist doing, however, was running a finger over the pattern in the skin near the shoulders.

His touch caused the unidentified body to shudder but lean back into his hand, releasing a strange vibration though his hand, so Sam mentally shrugged and brought his other hand up to trace the tattoo.

A few minutes into his exploration of the naked back, a throaty chuckle pierced the room, and Sam felt the vibrations under his palms.

"Having fun back there, Sammy?" A blush shot across the aforementioned college students cheeks as his mind finally identified the voice.

In an effort to regain some dignity, he asked about the tattoo.

The man under his hands was quiet for a few moments and Sam worried that he wouldn't answer.

"I got it when I was a kid, a way to honor my family, I suppose." His voice was oddly serious and reminiscent. Sam dared not interrupt. "I have three brothers, did you know? We all grew up with just my dad. We didn't really have a lot of other people to talk to and he was really religious, like _really_ religious." He let out a slight chuckle. "Called us avenging archangels once, and I guess it just kind of stuck with me." He shook his head. "Stupid, right?"

Sam shook his head, though his companion couldn't see it, and leaned forward slightly so that his head was resting slightly between the other's shoulder blades. "It sounds nice." He finally muttered.

" _Nice?"_ His companion sounded so confused that Sam had to laugh. After a minute, the other man shuffled around so he was facing the taller one, an amusing twist of confusion on his face.

It occurred to Sam at that moment that they were mere inches apart, both shirtless at the very least, and Sam had been roaring drunk the previous night. He turned red.

His companion's face twisted deeper into confusion as he observed Sam's discomfort. He saw the way the college student's eyes would dart down to his chest and then as far away as possible and turning somehow even more flushed.

As realization struck him, a smirk curled its way onto his face and Sam resolutely looked away, but made no effort to move.

"Sam?" He whispered lowly, causing the taller man to shiver slightly. "Do you not remember what happened last night?"

Sam swallowed loudly, and reluctantly shook his head.

"Are you _absolutely_ sure?" The low, sultry whispers were clearly getting to Sam, and he decided to ramp it up and he brought up a hand to trail across the broader chest, eliciting another beautiful shudder and red face.

Unable to help himself, images began racing through his mind of the possible scenarios. Skin on skin, drunken moans and sighs, Sam flushed even brighter.

His companion leaned forward and began chuckling into his chest.

"Don't worry, Samsquatch. Your purity is safe. You just asked me to stay in your drunken haze." He looked Sam in the eye mischievously. "I didn't realize you were such a cuddle-bug."

Letting out a breath that wasn't quite from relief, Sam let his head fall forward so that it rested comfortably on top of his companion. They rested comfortably like that for a long few minutes.

"I've decided I'm calling you Stu, today."

"Why?" The newly dubbed Stu asked, the vibrations running through Sam's chest.

"The Hangover." The college student admitted.

This time Stu's chuckles ran through his body, causing a strange feeling. Not an uncomfortable one, though.

The two lapsed into another comfortable silence, just sitting there, comfortably wrapped around each other.

This is how Sam's roommate found them an hour later.

"So, you did get some last night!" Corban shouted happily, causing a pang of a headache for Sam, and, from the audible groans of annoyance, the next room's occupant. "I thought you were too much of an RA to consider slumming it with us drunken peons."

Sam glared at his soon to be ex-roommate and muttered quietly, "Didn't realize you knew the word 'peon.'"

Corban just laughed, at an annoyingly loud pitch, and grabbed a bag from under his bed.

"If you wanna get some grub from the cafeteria, they're shutting down in an hour." He said helpfully, shouldering his bag with a smirk. "Think you can make it in an hour?"

Sam responded with one-fingered salute and Corban laughed, shutting the door loudly behind him.

"What time is it?" Stu asked, still folded comfortably into Sam's chest.

The new RA peered around the room for a moment, attempting to find the alarm clock.

"10:08."

Stu let out a loud huff, before attempting to extricate himself from Sam, it was largely unsuccessful as Sam was playing limp, unwilling to let the warmth of the other go.

"I need to get to work, Sammy. C'mon." The college student pouted, but rolled off him, unwilling to actually get up yet.

Stu rolled his eyes, but climbed over Sam, at one point even straddling him, causing the younger one's mind to go to a lot of places.

As the other stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders and tattoos rippling attractively with each stretch, Sam finally saw that he was clad in a pair of low hung jeans and not completely naked as he'd originally thought. Somehow the sight was even more… attractive than the naked images running through his head.

Stu finally bent down to grab his shirt, giving Sam a wonderful view of his ass, and pair of black underwear peeking out from his jeans.

Once the shirt was on, Stu turned back around to see he had Sam's rapt attention.

He smirked.

He swayed forward and leaned down so that his face was an inch from Sam's.

"See ya later, Sam." Stu purred lowly, pressing a searing kiss to the college student's lips. Then he left, with a swagger in his step.

Sam was left, lying in bed, now having to take care of a few more problems than before.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm back!

The holidays were pretty damn fun for me, I hope yours were just as good!

If anyone wants to suggest anymore prompts, now is the time to do it, because once the next chapter is out, only about 6-8 are left.

As always, review and follow!

LL


	9. Family

Hey guys! It's been a little while since I've updated, hasn't it? I had this chapter mostly written last week but my joblessness and despair caught up with me (as well as a very well written DA:I fanfiction).

So, here I am, stressed and very poor, but ready with another chapter.

I have a little surprise for you inside for waiting so patiently. It actually works better with my story than what I had originally put in there. See, you guys are already helping!

With that said, the surprise is mildly NSFW. So... probably don't read this in class or around relatives.

Disclaimer: Trust me, if I owned Supernatural, there'd be many more scenes like the one in this chapter.

With that, on with the story! Hope you enjoy!

Sam and the man he had decided was Patrick for the day, sat in the Stanford library. Sam was studying like a good pre-law student for a test coming up soon. Patrick, being the 'helpful' person that he was had 'helpfully' been building a fort for the past hour with all of Sam's discarded books, pen, pencils, and wads of paper.

When Sam looked up from his notes, he could see the librarian wavering between awe and outrage, and likely between kicking him out and finding a front row seat.

He shook his head and got up, intent on finding another book, perhaps Euclid's Elements? Hmm.

Browsing the stacks, he came across something curious. A book, a particularly large one, had fallen between the wooden shelves.

From what Sam could see, it was covered with dust and had probably been there for quite some time. He waved a hand and turned back to the stack, looking them over. To his consternation, though, his eyes kept drifting back to the trapped book. He finally just rolled his eyes and sighed.

Maybe this was fate's way of helping him with his tests?

He knelt down and reached an arm through the narrow gap, only barely grasping the book. He couldn't quite move it, but it wiggled a bit. Sam could feel the book's cover was smooth with some shapes carved into it. Probably meant that it was made of leather.

After a bit more finagling, the book came loose, and Sam dragged the book out of the shadowed and dusty gap.

He sat comfortably on the ground and slid the book into his lap. The cover was a dark leather with beautiful shapes carving out a trim. In the center was lovely green gem that held a heavy metal latch, keeping the tome shut. The entire book couldn't be much bigger than his hand and held a musty smell that he recognized from Bobby's expansive collection. That meant it was old, probably from the 15th century seeing as it was using parchment instead of paper.

He unlatched the gem adorned latch and let the pages fall open.

Etched into the thick parchment with a sharp pen or quill, the ink lines were straight and jerky, spelling out odd phrases that took Sam a moment to translate.

"A Witches Brew."

With quick hands, Sam tucked the book behind him, assuring that no one saw him bend to grab it, and all but rushed out of the shelves.

With Patrick still hidden in his book fort, Sam was able to slip the small journal into his bag without much fuss. He swung the bag on to his shoulder and began making excuses.

"I, uh, I just remembered that I, uh, I need something from my room. Let's- let's go and get that." Patrick raised a very skeptical eyebrow as he peeked out from behind his book construction, but he stood up and began following the mildly panicking man with no comment.

As they all but rushed to Sam's room, Patrick's curiosity was obvious, though he didn't voice any of his questions. Sam wished dearly that Patrick's work phone would go off at that moment, just so that he wouldn't have to come up with a stupid excuse, one that, in the past, had ruined most of his relationships.

He did not want to lose the quirky doctor.

So, it was with great regret that Sam led them to his new room, spacious and well lit, but horrible for hiding a book with someone watching your every move. He dropped his bag on his desk chair, careful to stand in the way of Patrick's curiosity.

"So… What's this about, Sammy?" The doctor asked, his eyebrow still cocked in question. "Don't you have some huge-ass final coming up? We were studying, remember?" He seemed to want to check Sam's head for a bump but restrained himself.

"Uh, yeah, I…" Sam licked his lips in his anxiety, and noticed the way Patrick's eyes flittered to his mouth. He licked his lips again, emboldened.

With quick hands, he snatched the shorter man by the arms and pulled him close, pressing a bruising kiss to the other man's lips. The brunette had tensed up at the hands but had moaned and leaned heavily on Sam.

Patrick's lips were slightly chapped and raw and, very fittingly, tasted like sugar. Sam slanted his mouth against the shorter man's, leaning down a bit as the other man surged up to meet him,

As he took a breath of air, Sam took the opportunity to use his tongue to distract his companion further (and to taste more of his achingly sweet mouth).

Eventually, when he felt that Patrick was entirely focused enough on other things, he reached a free hand behind him, into his bag to pull out the book.

He'd have to slip it behind the bed for now, he decided as Patrick ran a warm hand up his chest, and would have to disenchant and burn it later. It wouldn't do for someone to find a bunch of cursed ashes. Maybe he could lead them over to the bed to slip the book behind the head board? That would take a bit of-

He was cut off as Patrick pushed the taller man onto the bed, pressing searing kisses to his neck and a even more searing body against his own. Sam groaned, thrusting his hips up and leaning his head back to allow him more access and the man nipped and lapped at his exposed neck in time with their grinding hips. He had all but forgotten the book already.

It was with a disappointed growl, that Sam felt the kisses and movement stop as sat still Patrick perched on his lap. Sam opened eyes he hadn't realized he's closed, and found Patrick sitting atop him, frowning at a small book in his hands.

Sam's eyes flickered to his own hand, to find the grimoire gone. Eyes widening in slight terror, Sam attempted to sit up.

A gentle hand pressed him back down. "Don't try to beat me at my own game, Sam." Patrick said quietly.

As Sam watched, the other man looked over the book with little emotion on his face. As he looked from Sam to the book and back again and quiet phrase flowed from his lips that nearly chilled Sam to the core.

"You're a hunter." Almost immediately Patrick seemed to regret saying it, eyes widening as he set the book down and pressed both hands to his eyes.

As soon as the hand holding him down was gone, Sam sat up, jostling Patrick slightly as he wrapped arms around the other man's waist.

"How do you…?" Sam didn't quite know how to phrase the question, but thankfully Patrick understood.

"How did I figure out you were a hunter?" He let his hands fall to rest on Sam's shoulders while he let out a big sigh.

For a long time, they just sat there. And for a long time, Sam didn't think he would answer.

Finally, though, he heaved another heavy sigh and leaned forward so his forehead pressed against Sam's.

"My brother's and I? We didn't really have a normal childhood. I'm the baby. Three older brother's? Not so much fun. Three older brother's and we're always on the move? Even less fun. My dad tried. He tried a lot of things." He paused. "We killed things that hurt people. It was good, and we were good, and we were almost too tired to argue most of the time. Eventually though, something changed. Luc and Mike, they began arguing about… everything. Dad couldn't really do anything. Nothing would get them to stop fighting.

"One day, we were finishing a hunt and Mike finds a bloody knife in Luc's bag. Nothing big, right, we were on a hunt, and Luc's not the best with cleaning. Only problem was, we only used salt rounds and gasoline that night. So my dad asks him where the blood came from." Patrick let's out a short, harsh bark of laughter.

"Luc told him it was from a piece of filth and not to worry about it. Dad actually called the police. Cuffed Luc to the motel bed and we high tailed out of there. Thought maybe that'd be the end of it. A while later, after another hunt, we found out that Luc had killed all the officers sent to take him to prison. Dad was so… distraught. He just left." He took a shaky breath. "He left me and Mike and Raph on our own, unable to deal with his oldest being a psycho.

"Mike resented that. He didn't hate Dad, though. He hated Luc for making Dad leave so Mike said he was going to hunt Luc down and kill him, to get Dad back. Raph wanted to help." Another shaky breath.

"And you?" Sam asked quietly, unwilling to say more, to interrupt his story.

"They're my family." Patrick replied desperately, a hopeless tinge to his voice. "They're my brothers. I don't want Luc dead, and I don't want to be there when Mike or Raph are hurt or killed by Luc. Only reason I was hunting was because my family was doing it."

"So you left."

"So I left." He nodded against Sam, who could feel a few drops on his shirt fall from the other man's cheeks.

Sam leaned forward so his head rested on Patrick's shoulder and held him tightly against him while the other man let out his shaky, silent tears. Sam couldn't do much but hold him, so that's what he would do.

He'd be there for Patrick like his own family wasn't.

So, like the little make out scene, in there? It was my first attempt at writing something like that. I'd like to hear your opinions, maybe a tip or two. I appreciate any help at all.

Also, one of the upcoming chapters calls for the possibility of a sex scene. Opinions? I've never written one before so it probably won't be very good, but if you want, I'll do what I can.

Anyway, I hope you guys are doing alright! Please, read, review, favorite, follow, all that jazz!

Love ya!

LL


	10. Bring Your Boyfriend to Work Day

Well, shit.

Sam wasn't typically one to curse, having grown up around it to a stifling degree, but he thought this situation could qualify easily as an outlier.

It's not like he didn't have just cause to utter a few of Dean's choice words, he'd very likely broken his arm falling off of a ladder, after all, but that didn't mean he was especially proud of his cursing vocabulary.

Jessica worried over his injured arm as she and her roommate Katie helped him up gingerly. The two girls had been some of the only volunteers for setting up banners advertising the upcoming finals and end-of-the-quarter party. Everyone else was busy with either studying or getting some last minute relaxation before testing.

"I don't know how you got lucky enough not to break your neck." Jess moaned, her face riddled with guilt. "I don't know how the ladder collapsed. By all accounts, it's in perfect working condition. I-"

"It's okay, Jess." Sam interrupted with a grunt, clutching his arm to his chest. "I should go get this checked out though, right?" He gestured sarcastically at his obviously busted arm.

The skin was purpling now, with a fragment of bone almost poking through his skin. It was a sickening sight, and, were he almost anyone else, he would have been puking and sobbing on the floor in pain, especially with the way that the bone played against his nerves like a harp every time he moved.

As it was, he merely grimaced.

Jess, being the lovely person she was, she merely rolled her eyes at his annoying sarcasm and began leading him out to the parking lot.

"Hop in." She commanded easily as she pointed at her car. "The least I can do is drive you."

Sam sighed, he was going to argue for taking the bus or a cab, but decided against arguing with the scary blonde female.

"What's going on here?" Jess asked incredulously, peering around at the crowded emergency room.

A passing nurse answered helpfully, "Minor car collision on fourth. One of those 'cars' was a bus heading to a family reunion, so the entire family decided to come and wait in the ER while everyone else got checked out." She shrugged helplessly and added, "Why don't you follow me, Sam? I just got room open."

"I need to head back for class, Sam." Jess interrupted regretfully. "You gonna be okay here?"

"Go, Jess." Sam directed, exasperatedly. "I'll be fine."

"Alright," she replied dubiously. "Make sure to call your boyfriend, okay? I'll see you later, hun." With that, she kissed him on the cheek and, ignoring his raging blush, walked off.

The nurse just laughed and led him into an empty exam room.

He hopped deftly onto the bed, cradling his wrist carefully in his lap as he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open, punching in the familiar number.

"Greg's Mule Barn, head Ass speaking." Sam snorted.

"So you're Greg, today?" he asked.

"Mmm. Yes, since I haven't seen you all day, I decided to name myself." Sam shrugged.

"Anyway, just wanted to let you know I'm at the hospital right now, so if you wanted to swing by…?"

"Sam, what are you doing at the hospital?" The newly named 'Greg,' had a note of alarm in his voice that gave Sam a funny, light feeling.

"Don't worry, it's not life or limb-threatening. I just fell off a ladder and broke my wrist." That didn't do much to calm the slightly hysterical laugh that came through the phone, but neither of them commented on it.

"…'Kay. Be there in twenty." There was a click from the other end and a beep alerted him to the end of his call.

 _Huh, he must really be worried._

"Sam?" The nurse poked her head in. "A doctor will be in to see you soon and Nurse Macy asked me to pass along a message. She said, 'Next time you decide to get injured, can you not put Dr. Coelum in such a tizzy?'"

Sam snorted out a laugh.

"Tell her thanks."

She smiled and left Sam to sit in the quiet room.

Ten or so minutes later, Sam was fiddling idly with the edge of his shirt, and swinging his feet back and forth. There wasn't much else to do with his arm the way it was, but he was incredibly bored so…

The door swung open suddenly, startling Sam out of picking at his shirt seams.

"Hello there, I'm Dr. Coelum, and what seems to be the – Sam, what a _surprise._ I didn't expect to see _you_ here!"

This might have been believable if it hadn't been for the shit eating grin on his face with a very well hidden edge of panic in his eyes.

Sam smiled in return.

Greg sat down on the spinney stool that seemed to be in every doctor's office and scooted so he sat directly in front of Sam.

"Let's take a look at the damage, shall we?"

With careful hands, Greg took the damage arm and gave it a focused sweep over. Sam was curious to know what that look was about, but he'd wait until afterwards for questions.

"How's the pain? Any numbness?"

"Manageable." Sam replied easily. "No numbness."

"Well, good news is, it's not an open fracture and it hasn't damaged any nerves, so you probably won't have to get any surgery. We won't know for sure until I can X-ray it though." It was strange seeing the usually bubbly man in work mode. It reminded him a bit of that one show Jess liked to watch on his couch. What was it called again? Harrods… Holmes…

"House." He finished accidentally out loud. Greg looked up at him in surprise, the change of topic sudden.

"House what?" Sam cleared his throat nervously.

"Since I can't give you a first name today, I'll settle for a last name. Today, you are Greg House." Sam finished lamely. Looking a little awkward.

Greg just slanted an eyebrow and smirked.

"Does that make you Lisa Cuddy?" He snarked.

"I certainly do lead you around by the short and curlies." Sam mused. Greg put on an affectation of offense.

"Does that mean you also have lovely breasts?" He replied, barely able to contain his grin. Sam rolled his eyes but allowed a grudging smile cross his face.

"I'm pretty sure that would be Jess' department."

"Where is your lovely limpet?" Greg asked curiously. "You two are like, besties or something. I'd expect to see her at your sickbed."

"I'm not _sick_ ," he protested, "and I told her to go to class. She'd skipped too many days to afford sitting here and waiting."

"Whatever you say, Samsquatch." He replied indulgently. Sam swatted him on the shoulder with his good hand as the doctor stood.

"Come on, let's go get that thing X-rayed and patched up. I remember a little birdie telling me you and Jess are in the same Calculus class on Tuesdays." Greg informed him.

Sam smiled ruefully, but hopped down and followed the shorter man through the halls to radiology.

"Hey, Macy!" Greg called happily to the passing nurse. "I got anything scheduled after this?"

"Nope." She replied. "And Dr. Aiber's grateful that you picked up the last twenty minutes of his clinic duty."

"It's an honor to serve." He replied dramatically, giving a little bow.

The X-rays were done quickly and Greg slotted the images into place on the light board for Sam to see.

"What you see here is a simple enough Collis fracture. Won't even need surgery to put back in place." He replied happily. "Let's poke you with a needle full of drugs and push that back into place, yeah?"

Sam rolled his eyes but once again followed, this time to an exam room only a few doors down.

"Poke!" Greg said as he stuck the needle carefully under the other man's skin. "Now, what color cast do you want?"

"What?" Sam asked startled.

"What kind of cast do you want? I mean, I vote for the pink, but that's just cause it looks nice with your eyes, but you might want the camouflage or maybe the dark blue cause you're a rebel."

Sam scrunched his eyebrows up at the strange tangent the other man was going on.

"Uh, blue, I guess?"

"Hmm. Good, I'm done." Greg replied happily.

Sam looked down at his wrist, surprised.

"When did you…? I didn't feel a thing."

"'Cause I got skillz." Greg replied happily, pulling out the cast materials. "Now prepare yourself, cause this is gonna take a while."

Sam watched as the doctor carefully wrapped his wrist and set in for the long process.

The tingly feeling that every brush of his hand against his skin gave him, told him that breaking his wrist was actually turning out to be a good thing.

He'd have to find his way to the hospital more often.

Hopefully not injured, though.


	11. Avengers: Age of Sam

Hey, y'all!

This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but my muse has become a little flighty as of late and wants to work on an Iron Man story. That's a bit where this inspiration comes from as well as the helpful suggestion from **beckini**.

Anyway,

LL

* * *

Sam was off duty for the evening. His boss' gift for the upcoming finals, and a party raged out in the dorm's rec room.

Sam, having no particular desire to join in on the 'festivities' called his doctor friend over to help him study or at least distract him from the party. So far he was doing a fantastic job of that, having brought over his utterly insane comic book collection.

"Isn't this one kind of… rare?" Sam asked as he held up the near-mint looking comic depicting the Fantastic Four in their first collective iteration.

"Only slightly." The owner of said comic replied over his issue of one of the newer Spider-Man comics. "How do you know that, anyway? I thought you didn't know much about comic book collecting."

"I had a friend in Elementary school who obsessed over these. My brother was fixated on Batman, insisted he _was_ Batman on a few occasions." Sam chuckled a little. "I was so convinced that he was an actual superhero, that when he jumped off the shed dressed as Superman I jumped after him dressed as Batman."

"What happened?"

"I broke my arm. Dean had to drive me to the E.R. on his handle bars. Insisted everyone knew Batman couldn't fly." Sam idly shifted his focus to another of the scattered comics.

"Is he your favorite superhero, then?" Sam thought about that for a few moments before deciding.

"No. He's certainly pretty high on the list. Ordinary guy who defeats bad guys with cool gadgets? What's not to like?" He shrugged. "I'm more partial to Thor and Iron Man, though."

"Ah, more of a Marvel fan, then? A Norse god and a genius."

"Yup." Sam shrugged.

"So then, have you seen the new Thor comics? They say that Marvel's gonna make a movie out of them in a few years."

Sam accepted the offered comic books with thinly veiled interest.

There were a few minutes of quiet browsing, as they both scanned their respective hero's latest adventure.

"I think I've decided your name for today." Sam said after a moment.

When he didn't continue, his companion felt the need to prompt him.

"Well?"

"Loki." The newly named Loki, blinked up at Sam for a moment, before dissolving into laughter that was tinged with a strange edge.

"Not that I'm not flattered." Loki started after he'd calmed somewhat. "But what's your reasoning?"

"God of mischief, younger brother, likes the color green a bit too much…" Sam listed with a smirk. Loki afected a look of mock outrage.

"Your can never like green too much!" He protested jokingly. After a moment he added, "Wouldn't that also make me the father of the embodiment of Death?"

Sam blinked.

"How the Hell do you know so much about Norse mythology? I thought no one had to worry about the Norse pantheon much anymore."

"I _do_ read stuff other than comic books and medical files, you know." He whined. "Also, I had a high school mythology class. We learned about Greek and Roman mythos, too."

Sam just chuckled into his comic book.

"So you're not named after the Norse trickster god? Shocking." Sam smirked. Loki agreed. He hesitated for a moment before amending the statement.

"I have been called that before, though." He admitted.

"By who?"

"Mostly people I've pranked." He smiled a bit at a memory Sam couldn't see. "I was something of a preffessional prankster, you know. A bit like a mercenary but with practical jokes instead of weapons."

"So people paid you to douse someone else with paint, or something?"

"I was mostly with candy, and basically, yeah."

"Huh, that sounds… pretty fun, actually." Sam smiled ruefully after a moment.

"It was, most of the time. But it got a little boring after a while." Loki sat quietly for a moment before pulling out a sheet of paper lined with questions. "Anywho, don't you have a test I'm supposed to help you study for?"

Sam smiled, allowing the abrupt change of topic. He always delighted in learning more about the man currently called Loki. Even if it was only in small incriments.

He'd take all he could get. He wanted to know this man that had captivated him so, inside and out.

The one currently named Loki would admit he had a bit of a freak out when Sam had named him that day.

It had probably been a terrible idea, bringing the comic books with the deity he was still kind of impersonating inside, but he liked to brag, and some of the comic books in his ligitimately aquired collection, were incredibly rare and exclusive, most of those happened to be Thor comics, funnily enough.

In his panicked state, he knew he'd be unable to lie convincingly to Sam, so he kept as close to the truth as possible, making it seem like his professional pranking days were all light hearted and in middle and high school and maybe a bit of med school.

It irrtated him a lot more than it should, lying to Sam. Why was this puny little human effecting him so damn much?

He had written this off as one of his many flings, at first. Couldn't bring himself to clasify it as anything more than a strange, if a bit healthier than usual, obsession.

But the word obsession… It made it sound like he wanted Sam like a possession, and that didn't do the young man any justice.

Sam had left that area long ago.

Maybe at the beginning Loki only wanted Sam because he was hot and strangely alluring. But now…

Loki didn't know what to do with 'now.'

He had invented a life for himself, a background, and he _actually_ went to work most of the time. He had learned everything he would have in medical school and actually payed for his loft and car like a normal human.

Hell, he'd actually gone out and bought a real Jack Russel and named him Taz.

What was he doing for this strange human? Why?

He really wished he'd get an answer.


	12. The Storm

AN: Hey y'all, sorry for the wait. Just finished my final classes for my degree and then I had to move out of my dorm and find a job outside the city. It was... enlightening, to say the least.

Hope you like it!

On May 27th, Palo Alto and the Stanford campus were both hit with the storm of the year. Lightening, rain, high winds, and ominous purple-grey clouds, this storm had it all. There were even some people who worried there would be an earthquake.

However, with the storm being as large as it was, it hit one of power boxes and downed a power line near the school, cutting off the internet and power for the entire campus.

The majority of the student body was in coffee fueled, panicked cram sessions. Sam was no exception, of course, but his attention had been predominately captured by his dying laptop.

"Are you sure there are no more portable generators left?" He asked the desk clerk desperately. She was only slightly sympathetic, likely having been there for hours already, selling the one of the generators he was so desperate to get his hands on.

"Thanks, I guess." He muttered quietly as he stalked away from the desk.

He sighed and pulled out his phone, quickly dialing the number he knew by heart. He didn't know if anyone would pick, but he had to at least try.

Thankfully, a tired voice answered after three rings.

"…Hullo?"

"Hey!" Sam cleared his throat, trying to tone down the enthusiasm in his voice. "Hey there."

"Heya, Sam." The man on the other end yawned but Sam heard a smile in his voice. "What can I do for you?"

"So, you know it's storming outside, right?"

"Of course."

"Well… do you still have power? Or a back up generator? Something?"

"Still haven't finished that paper yet, huh?" The voice chuckled lowly.

"That is completely your fault!" Sam protested, slightly flustered. "You keep inviting me to – to movies and dancing and parties and – and –"

He was interrupted by laughter on the other end.

"You don't always have to say 'yes,' Sam." He teased.

"…But I want to." Was muttered quietly into the receiver.

"Sam, you say such sweet things to me!" The voice let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, fine. I can feel your puppy eyes through the phone. You can come over, use up all of my electricity. Mooch my food and delectable coffee. Steal my blankets again, no doubt."

"I'll be there in twenty!" Sam replied hurriedly, exuberance filling his voice.

"What." The word wasn't a question so much as a statement. The shorter man still stood in his open doorway staring incredulously at Sam. "What."

"I had to walk." Sam defended quickly, wringing out his shirt in the hall.

"Do you not own a jacket?" The other man ushered him inside and Sam let him fuss for quite a few minutes over his utterly soaked visage.

"I left it at the dorm." He muttered sheepishly. He was tutted and shuffled in front of the fireplace, a pile of towels dumped on him as well as a pair of sweats.

"Out of the wet clothes! I don't want you getting sick."

"When did I leave these here?" Sam mused, holding up the sweats.

"Last time you came over." Was his impatient reply. "C'mon I want to get those clothes dry."

Sam rolled his eyes, but obediently began peeling his layers off, dumping each item into the doctor's waiting arms. He wiggled into the sweats not long afterwards and flicked on the fireplace for some added warmth.

The doctor returned then, arms empty of the clothing burden and the dryer hummed happily in the background.

"Plug your computer into the wall, the building still has power." He said, striding over to the couch where Taz lazed. He was clutching a stack of files and two glasses of red wine.

"Thanks." He accepted the offered glass with a smile and proceeded to follow his instructions.

They sat quietly like that for a while, save for the clicks of Sam's keyboard and the occasional scratch of the other man's pen. Sam sat cuddled up in a blanket on the floor between his companion's knees, Taz curled up at his master's side.

Sam was surprised by how comfortable he was with the achingly normal and domestic tableau, with both subjects as far from normal as could be.

This was a scene that had become increasingly common since the revelation about both of their pasts. Sam had been given a key a few weeks before, but without a car, he didn't make use of it as often as either of them liked. And there was certainly a lot of _liking_ involved…

Sam shook his head and attempted to refocus on his paper, deciding that his companion would be called James, an achingly normal name.

Of course, that was the moment the power decided to go out.

Lit by nothing but the fireplace, both men glared up at the ceiling as if that would turn the power back on.

James sighed as he shuffled his papers back together and into their respective folders. He was unfortunate enough to be working without the automatic backlight of a computer screen.

"Don't you have to finish those tonight?" Sam asked, quietly worried that there would be ramifications.

"No. I'm nearly done with them, anyway." James responded taking a big gulp of wine. "I just wanted to get ahead of the curve and not have Macy glaring at me for turning it in at the last minute again." He shrugged. "Oh well."

Sam smiled a little taking his own, much smaller sip of wine. He pressed the save button and shut the lid to his laptop, placing it to the side.

Ignoring James' mildly surprised look, Sam nudged him over and plopped down next to him, draping the blanket over both their shoulders. Taz grumbled at them as he plodded across James' lap to nestle between their legs. He huffed at them when they both chuckled down at him. James turned his curious gaze to Sam.

"Don't you have to finish that paper?" Sam smiled softly, and curled closer to him.

"I think it can wait one more night, don't you?"

James smiled in response, and leaned over slightly to kiss him.

"You're sweet." He whispered as he looked Sam in the eye. Sam smiled and returned the kiss with interest.

"Do you have work in the morning?" He asked as he rested his head on James' shoulder. James' response was a reluctant nod and to rest his own head atop Sam's.

Sam curled his feet up onto the couch and shut his eyes, content.


	13. Archangel: Part I

An: Hey! Very important note! There is one more chapter after this, with the high probability of a sequel. It all depends on you guys. If you want a sequel leave a comment, if not, also leave a comment.

Something to know, though. This story takes place roughly about two years before season 1 begins, and if I do make a sequel I can skip that time and go straight to season 1 or Book 2 could also be a fluff. I'm leaning more towards skipping, but I haven't made up my mind yet.

As for how it shall end... You shall see in the next chapter!

Also, thank you to the reviewers, you guys are awesome. And all those who've followed the story, thank you!

Disclaimer: I do not own. Otherwise this would have really happened.

* * *

"Do you wanna go with me to church tomorrow?" Sam asked suddenly during dinner at the Loft, spooning a large portion of steamed broccoli onto his plate. His partner paused in at the stove, his knife hovering above the steak he was in the process of cutting. He looked at Sam with very clear confusion, obviously not expecting the sudden question.

"It's Wednesday, isn't it?" The shorter man verified, attempting to get over the sudden subject change. "And aren't you supposed to go to church on _Sunday_? Or is that just a myth to fool the silly _non-Christians_ into taking the weekend off?"

Sam chuckled at him and shook his head. "You _are_ supposed to go to church every Sunday, yeah, but I wanted to go to confession in the morning before class."

"Got a lot to _confess_ do ya, Sammy?" The other man asked slowly and seductively, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Why don't you confess to _me_?"

Sam rolled his eyes but smiled indulgently at him. "Not that kind of confession, you dork. Do you wanna go?"

"Hmm… Maybe. How early would we have to wake up, exactly?" The other man's nose scrunched at the thought of having to wake up at anytime earlier than eight.

"At about 8:30. Mass ends at 9:30, so we'll have enough time to eat breakfast, get dressed, and drive to the church."

"Alright. But!" He replied finally, waving his fork for emphasis. "I do have an evening shift tonight, so I'm taking a nap afterwards. And I'm not wearing a tie."

Sam smiled brightly at him. "You don't have to wear a tie, just no graphic tees."

"You ask so much of me."

* * *

As Sam and his partner rolled up infront of the church, St. Mathew's, the morning service was beginning to file out in orderly chaos. The crowd was mostly elderly women, and the two men received borderline leering looks as they filed passed them and into the church hall.

There, the choir was assisting the four ushers in collecting all the mass booklets from the pews. Few people besides them had stayed behind, sitting or kneeling calmly in their respective pews, mostly near the front.

Sam secured them seating near the middle, away from most everyone else, and knelt on the red-padded kneeler. His companinion sat back comfortably in the pew, peering into the psalm book and then the hymn book, humming a few of the songs he recognized. Sam let his focus drift to the colorful stained windows, covered in images of saints and angels. Each one beautifully, if unusually, stylized.

As if to specifically oppose the more typical iteration of the heavenly beings, these depictions were more ferocious and battle ready than normal.

The stained glass closest to them showed a blonde archangel with a beautiful set of shiny, golden wings behind him. Clad in a set of resplendent silver armor with his head surrounded by a translucent halo, it was a decidedly unusual image, but devastatingly beautiful none the less.

The other windows displayed a version of the image, but Sam found his attentions drawn to that one in particular.

Smiling up at the window and then at his pewmate, Sam stood and strode evenly over to the now-empty confessional. He shut the door behind him and sat down.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." He began. "It has been six months since my last confession."

"Welcome, my child. What sins have you committed in these six months." The mesh screen between Sam and the priest muffled voices somewhat.

"I haven't gone to mass every Sunday like I should, I haven't called my family," Sam hesitated, "…and I haven't told my brother that I love him. For these and all sins that I have committed during my life, I am deeply sorry."

"Thank you, my son, for your honesty." The priest replied sagely from behind the mesh partition. "The Lord Father forgives you of your sins. As penance, you are asked to say seven Hail Mary's and to call your brother tonight and tell him that you love him."

Sam bowed his head in contrition and began reciting the prayer. "O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You. I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because they offend You, my God, Who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen."

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

"Amen."

"Give Thanks to the Lord, for He is good."

"For His mercy endures, forever."

Sam stood quietly, contemplatively, and left the confessional, walking ponderously back to the pew his companion sat meditating in, the confession taking little more then ten minutes. Kneeling down once more, he began his prayers.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

Once more, Sam found his eyes drawn to the stained glass nearest them. The morning sun was shining through it in such a way, that it seemed alive, moving. The grim-faced angelic warrior standing above them, seemed to look straight at him, observing him.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

His partner next to him had his head tilted up slightly, basking in the early morning sunlight glow from the window and swaying to the calming piano music playing through the speakers. Sam smiled at him and turned back to his prayers.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

He found for the first time, he was almost completely content with his life. The only thing that would make it better, of course, would be his brother and father accepting his path, and maybe those bridges would be rebuilt in time, maybe they would not, but either way, he was happy.

He was with a man who he loved, who listened to him, sympathized with him. He was comfortable saying they were both content. His partner, boyfriend, lover, whatever you wanted to call him, always looked at Sam with shining eyes and a soft look, like he was the most important, special, thing in the world.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

The window called his attention once more, as the light shifted to shine down on their pew. The head resting atop his partner's. Sam's eyes lit upon the name on the window, of the angel.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

What were the names of his brothers, again? Mike, Raph, and Luke? Michael, Raphael, and Luke, maybe? Biblical names.

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

Luke was a profit. And what were the archangels' names? Michael, Raphael, and…

 _Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee._

 _Blessed art thou among women,_

 _And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus._

 _Holy Mary, mother of God,_

 _Pray for us sinners,_

 _Now and at the hour of our death._

 _Amen._

"Gabriel." Sam turned to face his pewmate, who had started at the sudden sound in the quiet ambience. Sam repeated the name. "Gabriel. Your name is Gabriel, isn't it?"

Gabriel's startled and confused eyes followed Sam's own to the colorful stained glass shadow that fell over them. He let out a rueful chuckle and smiled at the ceiling of the church.

He turned back to Sam. "Call me Gabe."

Sam's eyes crinkled as he beamed.

Gabe smiled back and shifted forward onto the kneeler, bending his head ad he twined his hands together. Sam sat back in the pew in turn, smiling at the effigy at the front of the hall of the man nailed to the cross.

 _Thank you._


	14. Archangel: Part II

AN: Hey guys! This is the last chapter. Yay! Thanks to popular vote, I'll be writing a sequel. I don't know when I'll start posting, but I'll be sure to leave a note on the story for you, and be sure to check out my stories list, too.

Anyway, thank you all for the support. I do want to ask, though, one last question. Obviously, y'all wanna see Sabriel, but the next story will be running through the series so you'll see a lot of your favorite characters. But what other pairings you wanna see? Mutual Samifer is out, but perhaps one sided? I'd like your input.

On with the story!

* * *

Gabe saw Sam off to his dorm that afternoon. Packed him up and dropped him and his car off with a kiss. Then, once he was sure Sam was safely tucked away, he drove back to the church.

He nodded his respect at the tired priest as he passed him. The priest nodded back, a small exhausted smile on his face. The priest shut the heavy door to his office behind him and Gabe continued on.

He secured a spot in the front pew and sat.

For a few moments he didn't really know what to do, simply staring up at the golden tabernacle and cross. Then he decided to speak.

"Father…" he searched for words for a moment before looking back up. "You are a tricky bastard, you know that? Real crafty. That whole 'light shines through the angel Gabriel directly on top of me' thing? Genius. Nicely done, I have to say." He smirked up at the cross, but after a moment, the smile fell away.

"Why?" he asked simply, earnestly. "Why are you so invested in my life now, but you weren't before? Why are you suddenly interfering in my life?" He was quiet for a while. "I'm not angry about that. At least, I don't think so. I like Sam, and I'm pretty sure he likes me. But I've had who knows how many flings over the millennia and you couldn't give a rat's ass about any of it. So what's different?" He squinted upwards as if expecting an answer.

"No, I suppose it would be too easy for you to actually answer my questions. You were always a cryptic one." He sighed and rubbed his face.

"I don't want this to fail." He said quietly after a long silence. He spoke louder. "I don't want this to fail and with him being a hunter… I don't know. I'm afraid he'll find out I'm… me, I guess, and feel obligated to kill me. Which, to be honest, might actually succeed.

"Sam is human. He is human and part of me hates that. Part of me screams in agony every time I look into his eyes and I know that he won't live forever. I don't want to see him grow old and die, while I stay the same and have to live forever without him.

"Sure, I could visit him in his heaven, it's not exactly permitted, but when have I ever followed the rules. But, eventually, his soul would be reborn and lose all memories of me and…" He paused and sighed.

"But the other part of me _wants_ to see him grow old and fat and _happy._ I want to watch him make stupid life choices, adopt a stray, become a lawyer, become president, I don't know. Whatever his dreams are, I want to see them come true. What do I do? …what _can_ I do?" Gabe rubbed his face again, not really surprise that it was slightly wet.

"I guess what I really want isn't answers. I know you're not really known for giving people what they want, instead giving them what they need, but I need _him._ I need him like humans need to breath. I need him to live. I need him to love. Him, my wonderful, silly, broken, loving human named Sam."

He looked back up at the cross once more, not at all surprised by the lack of change, but more than a little disappointed. He sat back for a moment, unsure of what to do now.

Silence reigned for a long time.

When he finally decided to look up again, darkness had decided to claim the world. He'd been sitting there for about five hours. Just sitting and staring.

With a loud sigh, he stood and began slowly shuffling out of the church.

The night guard spotted him exiting the church and waved at him as he swiftly limped over and locked the doors.

"You kept it open just for me?" Gabe asked, staring at the guard with no small amount of surprise.

The guard shrugged and replied, "Father Dieu said you looked like you were in crisis and needed to talk to God. He does that occasionally." He paused and search Gabe's face. "Did it help any?"

He sighed. "Not as much as I wished, but thanks. And tell Father Dieu I said thanks as well."

"No problem. Have a good night." The guard ambled off, clearly headed for his previous spot near the door.

Gabe trudged over to his car and plopped himself inside. He sat in muffled silence for a moment, debating whether he wanted to drive to his apartment or not, and whether he even should.

It might be kinder in the long run to just drop off the map, have the hospital tell Sam he had to move away or something. Leave no forwarding address and just move on, go back to being Loki the Trickster who roams the world tricking douchebags and jerks. Mainly in Europe and Asia, probably. No need to circuit the Americas again. Not this soon.

He finally breathed heavily and shook his head. He stuck his key in the ignition and started the car, slowly peeling out of the parking lot.

He couldn't do that. Gabe hated hurting Sam because when Sam hurt, he hurt, and if that made him selfish, so be it. He'd freely admit to it, if only to keep Sam around.

Sam.

Gabe fished his phone out of the cup holder and dialed in the memorized number. It rang a few times before the voicemail sounded.

"Hey, this is Sam, I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number and message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can." The dial tone beeped at him and Gabe started speaking.

"Hey Sam, you're obviously busy right now, but I have a bit of free time before work if you want it. Gotta work at eleven so I'm yours until then. Call me if you want me to swing on by and -"

SMASH!

* * *

At 10:44 PM, Sam stepped out of the shower in the dorm gym and ruffled his wet hair as he strode over to his locker and gym bag, clad in little other than a short white towel.

"Hey Sam." Brady greeted his friend from the other side of the room. "I heard your phone ring while you were showering."

"Thanks." Sam smiled and fished his phone out after slipping on his jeans.

The little envelope symbol blinked cheerfully up at him proclaiming Gabe's number for him. He grinned and slipped his shirt on before clicking the play button and putting the phone up to his ear.

"Hey Sam," Gabe's voice had the slightly tinny phone sound to it, "you're obviously busy right now, but I have a bit of free time before work if you want it. Gotta work at eleven so I'm yours until then. Call me if you want me to swing on by and -"

Sam was startled when his voice was cut off suddenly by a loud screeching sound. For a moment Sam thought Gabe had caught a bit of interference.

That assumption was quickly dashed.

After a few moments of tense silence, in which Sam verified the message was still going, there was a raspy cough and the a groan.

Sam hurried out of the locker room, ignoring Brady's inquiring eyes.

"…lp…" a voice came faintly through the phone. It was Gabriel's. There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and shifting around. "Help!"

The shout wasn't nearly loud enough or close enough to the phone to be heard by anyone but him, yet Jessica somehow knew something was wrong when she spotted him.

"Hel- BEEP This is the end of your messages."

Sam slammed his phone shut. And tossed his gym bag onto one of the unoccupied couches. He turned to a worried Jess, with his own share of panic.

"Sam, what is it?"

"Gabe, my boyfriend." Her eyes widened.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know." That statement scared him more than anything else. He didn't know where Gabe was, what happened, or even what his condition was. He could do very little.

"Call the hospital." Jess advised, with anxious eyes. Sam latched onto that suggestion with desperation, dialing the number for Nurse Macy.

Two rings later, she picked up.

"Hello?" She answered cheerfully.

"Macy, this is Sam."

"Oh, hello, Sam! Dr. Coelum's not in yet, but can I leave a message?"

"Macy, I think he's been hurt."

"What?" Her voice was startled and slightly lost.

"I got a message from him that sounded like he was hurt."

"… there was a car crash earlier." She said after a moment, a note of worry in her voice. "A drunk driver hit someone. They're bringing them both here."

"I'm heading there right now." He informed her. He hung up without waiting for a response and turned to Jess.

"I'll cover your shift tonight." She said before he could say anything. "You go make sure your boyfriend is okay."

"Thank you." Sam latched the short blonde in a quick hug, then dashed out of the building and towards the hospital.

* * *

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AN: I thought I'd end it there, but it didn't quite accomplish what I wanted, so, on with the story.

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* * *

He opened his eyes to a white ceiling. Next to him, something was beeping in a steady rhythm, while on his other side someone was breathing deeply.

He felt…he felt a little disconnected, to be honest. Kind of like he was floating.

Turning his head turned out to be a trial, seeing as he couldn't really feel his neck, but he managed in the end. He saw the steady beeping was coming from a standard hospital heart monitor.

He was in the hospital then. That made some sense. He vaguely remembered going to church with Sam, taking a nap together, and then dropping him off for class. After that it was a blur. A brief memory of a chat with a security guard and a glimpse of a burning car bathed in red, white, and blue lights.

A car wreck. He'd been in a car wreck. Heading to work, maybe? Or was he going to meet Sam somewhere?

A shallow gasp brought his head lolling towards his other side. He was greeted with the misty red eyes of Sam, who was clutching his hand fiercely. Gabe was happy to note he felt it, albeit dimly.

"Gabe." Was all Sam uttered before he shuddered in another breath.

"Sam." Was his own hoarse reply. Wow, it sounded like he'd been gargling rocks. Nurse Macy, his favorite of all the nurses decided to enter at that moment.

A bright smile light up her face when she saw his eyes open and aware.

"Dr. Coelum! We were all worried sick about you, you know?" She bent down quickly and pecked a kiss on his cheek. She straightened up. "Alrighty, you know the drill. I've gotta ask a few questions to test your memory. Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"Yeah, that's right. Next, Do you know how you got here?"

"Ambulance." Macy gave him a dry look.

"Thank you, smart ass. I meant why're you in the hospital?"

"Car wreck." She nodded and smiled a bit brighter.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Macy Stanton. Lost… Christmas poker… badly." She scowled.

"Of course you remember that." She sighed and pointed at Sam. "And him?"

"Sam. Boyfriend. Cute butt." Sam gained a very faint blush, but gave him a watery smile.

Macy nodded her agreement and signed something off on her clipboard with a flourish.

"Okay, looks like your memory's in good shape. I'll just leave you two alone, while I go talk to Dr. Aiber." Gabe tried to scowl but his face was too numb, so it ended up a little funny, or at least that's what he got from Sam's expression.

"I was worried." Sam told him after a long silence. "I got your message and…" He trailed off.

Gabe wracked his brain trying to remember what the message was.

"You heard… the crash." He didn't phrase it as a question but Sam nodded anyway.

"You were calling for help and it cut off. I didn't know if you… if you were going to make it." Sam looked down.

Gabe blinked his eyes slowly and looked up at the ceiling. Sam was crying. He was silent and trying to hide it, and Gabe decided to let him.

"They said you hit your head really bad." The younger man said after a moment. "You were in a coma for a week. The doctors didn't know why, and didn't know if you'd ever wake up."

Gabe didn't know how to explain it either. Didn't know how to reassure Sam about something that had already passed.

In the end, he just squeezed Sam's hand.

"Don't you… have class?" He asked finally. Sam nodded, seemingly grateful for the subject change.

"Jess is taking notes for me in psychology, and my other teachers are recording the lectures for me. I'll have to make up some assignments, but I've only missed a week."

"What time is it?"

Sam titled his watch, using the movement to discretely wipe his eyes.

"12:39. Lunch time, I'd say. I'll head down to the cafeteria and fetch us some food, how's that sound?"

"Jell-O." Sam laughed and stood.

"Yes, I'll get you Jell-O. Be back in 15 minutes." Sam bent over in an echo of Macy's earlier action, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

As the tall brunet left the room, Gabe couldn't help but hope he'd never scare Sam like this again. He knew how futile that hope was, however.

After all, he was only human.

* * *

AN: Tune in, in the future for the next story!

Thank you all!

LL


	15. Update

Hey there all!

I just wanted to point you all to the sequel 'Gabriel,' and my poll.

If you don't want to go to my profile and find it on there, you can find the story at this extension: fanfiction s / 12525331 / 1 / Gabriel

Just remove the spaces.

Thanks!

LL


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